Hurricane
by corneroffandom
Summary: Stranded in Florida hotels, the TNA roster look for ways to keep busy.


"Stupid hurricane," Spud huffs, anxious and uncomfortable as he stares at the radar, the mess of colors approaching Florida. It looks huge and the newscasters sound tense, their eyes wide as they stare into the camera aimed at them. Tapings had been canceled until Saturday, adding to the nervousness surrounding the wrestlers. They had all agreed silently to ignore their personal and professional problems as best as possible and hole up in the hotel to wait out the hurricane.

He's still gnawing at his knuckle, feeling a little like he had when with the Hardys and could barely keep control of his nerves, until Zema peeks in, offering him a small smirk. "Hey, bro, come on, we're going to the gym to work off some steam until things get worse outside."

Spud frowns at him but reluctantly agrees, turning the TV off and following him out. Ethan and Robbie are collecting their things as well, Spud quickly brushing past Ethan and scooping up his bag, his jaw working as he ignores his significant other. It had barely been twenty four hours until Ethan had all but ordered him to delete a joke he'd made similar to one Ethan had made a few hours earlier, Spud thinking he was joking at first until Ethan had all but cornered him into the room and ordering him again, voice tight and eyes flashing with danger, to delete the tweet. Which Spud had done, along with the tweets he'd made while annoyed about having to delete the first.

He pretends not to notice as Robbie turns to look at Ethan when he marches determinedly from the room, asking, "Still mad at you, huh, bro?" before the door slams shut behind him. He leans against the exterior hotel wall and watches the dark clouds roll in, arms crossed over his chest until the others join him, Zema nudging him with his shoulder and leading the way to their rental car. Robbie drives with Ethan in the passenger's side, Zema and Spud riding in the back, and it's a quiet, tense trip to the nearest gym. Spud's mood doesn't improve when Robbie and Ethan both take to Twitter to make belittling comments about his gym wear, but Spud studiously ignores it as he works up a good sweat, looking away whenever Ethan gets in his line of sight.

He pays absolutely no attention to how Ethan's clothes cling, or how his form is as he lifts weights.

When they leave the gym around an hour later, Zema drenches himself with a bottle of water and groans in appreciation as Robbie laughs at him. "I guess we should see if we can get any quick groceries before we head back to the hotel, huh?"

"I already have my tequila, I'm good to go," Ethan says dismissively. He points warningly at Robbie. "You are not touching it, at all."

Robbie scoffs. "Like I wanted any of that wormy water, bro." Nudging Zema, he throws an arm around Spud's shoulders. "No, bro, we're gonna go get _real_ food, ain't that right, bros?" Spud struggles to get free and Robbie grins. "C'mon, let's see what's left."

In the end, not much, the shelves mostly picked bare, but they take what they can. Spud collects a six pack of water, moving to see if there's any bread left- worse case scenario, he supposes they can survive off of sandwiches for a couple of days when hands come out of nowhere and try to snag the water clean out of his hands. "Hey," he snaps, holding on tightly. "Let go."

Angry green eyes peer down at him, desperation keeping him in place as he continues trying to tug the water from Spud's stubborn grip. "My family needs this more than you do, let it go now, kid."

"I'm not a kid," Spud snaps, his accent thickening. "And maybe _my_ family needs it more than you, who's to say? Either way, I'm not letting it go."

The guy looks like he's about to punch Spud out for this one measly six pack of water when Spud feels himself being pushed back, his view obstructed as a familiar form shields him. "Let it go, man. You're not getting that water from him. So go."

Tough guy falters when he takes in Ethan's muscular form, gnawing at his lower lip before turning and storming out of the store.

Spud gnaws at his lower lip, turning away from Ethan. "I didn't need your help."

"Probably not, but we don't have time to argue with people," Ethan says, a stack of snacks and food in his hands despite what he'd said earlier. Spud eyes him with a grimace and he smirks. "These are all mine."

"Of course they are," he mumbles, blinking when Ethan reaches up onto the very top shelf and drops a couple loafs of bread onto Spud's water. "How did you-? Never mind," he grimaces, remembering that he's still mad at Ethan. Turning sharply, he continues on to look for good non-perishable items to sustain them for the next couple of days.

Once they all pay and leave, they have a decent pile of food among the four of them. Spud and Zema pile their things in the back with Robbie and Ethan's less useful food items and exchange rueful glances before returning to the backseat, listening quieting to Robbie and Ethan bickering in the front over Ethan's hidden stock of tequila.

As the storm approaches and night falls, Ethan invites a number of people into his room, most TNA production staff and a few wrestlers. Spud isn't that surprised when his sandwich supplies and Zema's fruit and canned food quickly gets ate up. He huffs and catches Zema's eye again, the two of them shrugging at each other until Robbie tugs Zema into the middle of it all and pushes a sandwich into his hands. Spud exhales in annoyance before joining them, ignoring Ethan as he takes pictures of the group and makes a general nuisance of himself.

He half pays attention to the baseball game, not too impressed as Ethan cheers on the Cleveland Indians, the group slowly drifting off to go to their own rooms one by one. Soon enough, it's just him, Ethan, Robbie, Zema once more... or so he thinks until he looks over to find Moose sitting next to him, eating whatever's left of his loaf of bread. "You want to stay, mate?" Spud wonders during a lull in the game. "The sofa is comfortable, I guess."

"Better than getting stuck in a room with Lashley and Tyrus because no one else wants to stay with them," Moose agrees with a shrug. "Thanks, Spud."

"You're welcome," he says with a vague smirk, unable to imagine the three of them surviving a night in a room together with a hurricane raging outside no less. Soon enough, Zema is dozing off sitting up and Robbie pushes him towards the second bed, getting him comfortable before preparing for bed himself.

Ethan and Spud sit up for awhle longer, watching until the game wraps up, neither saying a word or looking at each other. Once the final inning wraps up, Spud gets up with a yawn and heads into the bathroom, quickly changing and brushing his teeth before snuggling in between the sheets. It's windy outside, lightning streaking against the sky now and again, and he shivers at the thought of the storm that will hit. "We should get as much sleep as we can before it really hits," Ethan tells him, the first words he's spoken to him in hours, turning the last of the lights off and running his hand down Spud's back as he climbs into bed next to him.

He murmurs glumly, still staring at what he can see between the gaps in the drapes, Ethan's hand warm and solid against his spine, rubbing soothing circles against his tense flesh until he gives in to his exhaustion and falls asleep.

Ethan wakes up with a jerk, staring into the darkness. Zema and Robbie are shuffling around behind him, sounding distressed about something. "Power went," Robbie mumbles, half asleep.

That explains why Ethan can't see much, trapped in a cocoon of sheets and barely able to hear anything else over the wind and rain pelting the side of the building and the windows. He's about to close his eyes when Moose speaks up, "Where's Spud?"

 _Then_ it dawns on him why he was awakened so abruptly- not because of the abrupt loss of electrical humming or how loud the storm is, but because of the loss of warmth next to him. He quickly gets out of bed and looks around. Zema and Robbie are sitting up in bed too, staring at him, and Moose is by the couch, but there's no sign of Spud. He swallows and feels around the room, wishing that he'd thought to keep his phone nearby but it'd been abandoned on the other side of the room after the baseball game. "Dammit," he hisses, using the vague flashes of lightning to find his way to the wall, feeling around. "Spud! Where the hell are you?" He grunts as he bumps into the bathroom doorknob, blinking when he realizes that it's shut. "Oh."

Feeling around, he locates the doorknob in the dark once more and pushes the door open, stumbling into the bathroom and listening intently. "... Spud?" The storm makes it hard to hear, but finally he thinks he's tracking rough, loud breathing nearby so he feels gingerly around, not wanting to kick the toilet or tub. He likes his toes the way they are, mostly, so he's careful as he proceeds forward, stopping here and there to listen. Finally he realizes where the noise is coming from and pushes the shower curtain away, reaching out and exhaling in some relief when his fingers brush against familiar, soft hair. "Spud," he mumbles, reaching out and wrapping his arms around the trembling man's form. "What the hell happened, huh?"

It's awkward to get his arms around him from this angle but he succeeds, planting his legs and hoisting Spud's thin form up and away from the cool ceramic, holding him tightly. "Are you ok?" Spud's still not answering, trembling and clinging to Ethan's shirt, and he frowns, making sure he has a good grip on Spud before walking back into the main room.

Zema and Robbie are watching closely as he walks to the bed and settles Spud in his lap, stroking his hair. "Is he ok?"

"I'm not sure," Ethan mumbles, trying to get a good look at Spud in the darkness. "Hey, Spud, you're scaring us, come on, man."

"It was so loud," he chokes out, burying his face in Ethan's chest. "The wind and the rain, in the bathroom. It... I was half asleep and just... thought the place was falling down around me. I don't know why."

Ethan exhales. "You're alright, see, things are ok. It's loud but we're safe." He hugs him tighter, relieved when Spud nods wearily. Pulling away from him, Ethan brushes his hair back and tries to smile down at him. "Hey, Spud," he says softly. "I'm sorry about that tweet nonsense yesterday. I shouldn't have been so pushy about it, it's just those jokes were my thing, you know? A way to undermine people trying to ruin my family's name and my family's company further."

"I know," Spud mumbles, fumbling with Ethan's collar. "I just thought we could share it or something. Your family name and TNA means a lot to me too, you know, sir."

Ethan sighs and kisses the top of his head. "I know it does, Spud. I shouldn't have reacted like that, I guess." He adjusts his grip on Spud and reaches over towards the bedside table. "I do know something we can share though."

Spud frowns at the clinks of glass in the darkness and murmurs, "Your tequila, sir? But-" 

"Yes," Ethan says steadily, not letting Spud refuse before he pours out two small glasses of the colorless liquor.

"Not fair-" Robbie starts to protest from the other bed, just to choke out a wheeze, Zema landing an elbow in his ribs him to keep him quiet. Robbie's complaints and Zema's attempts at soothing him are not-so mysteriously muffled afterwards.

Once Ethan makes sure the drink is steady in Spud's hands, he puts the bottle down and awkwardly clinks their glasses together. "To surviving Hurricane Matthew," he says, flashing a grin at Spud even though he can't really see in the poorly lit room.

"To that," Spud agrees, quickly downing the tequila and cringing. "Ah, bloody hell, that's strong."

Ethan chuckles after drinking his and eases Spud back into his arms, kissing him. "C'mon," he sighs after putting their glasses back on the table, laying down once more and tugging Spud over to sprawl across his chest. "Try to get back to sleep. I've gotcha. You're safe."

"Yessir, I know I am," Spud murmurs, the alcohol and general warmth and comfort of being this close to Ethan leading him in that direction anyway.

From the couch, Moose rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. "Y'all are insane."


End file.
